


Another Time

by knifecrew



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 21:14:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knifecrew/pseuds/knifecrew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Midst an affair, the fun won't last forever (original character, m/m).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I wrote a long time ago in hopes of dealing with this writer's block I'm still experiencing, so if you think you've seen this before, it is a repost (and you may find it on other sites as well; two, at this point). At the time I wrote it, I was able to spit this short bit out, and it's been somewhat edited since then.

He's into it today.

Whenever we meet, something holds him back, but not today. 

I don't know what it is.  He moans a little louder when I swirl my tongue around the tip of his cock.  His body jerks a little harder every time I brush my fingers against that slick, puckered ring of muscle.  He's already come once and is still as hard as a rock.  It's  _never_  like this.

I can't exactly say I hate it.

I've been waiting for the longest time.

Our last encounter had been rudely interrupted by a phone call, which William--for some reason--couldn't ignore.  Then again, he doesn't belong to me.  Now that we're here and he's distracted, not even an earthquake could stop us.

I slide my hand from the crease of his thigh up to the knee and push his legs open wider.  I know it feels good.  I know because he can't keep from tossing his head side-to-side.  Every now and then, he will look down at me with that familiar glimmer in his eyes: a look I have seen dozens of times.  He wants it now.  _Patience_ , I think to myself.  This time, I gag when I take him wholly.  He's not small in that department and I have always had a nasty gag reflex.  I don't care, though, not with him.  The look on his face, the noises he makes, are too tantalizing to ignore.

As I bring my head up, my lips smack together with a wet sound, and a thin ribbon of precum strings from my chin.  Will sits upright, wiping it away and he comes down from the armchair to his knees to kiss me-- _hard_.  His lips crush painfully against mine.  The kiss is hungry, desperate and I all but let him eat me up.  Knowing my lips are swollen and red, it doesn't matter; no one will see.  "I need you," he whispers in between the gesture.

"Then take me."  I like whatever has gotten into him tonight; this ferocious animal lust that exploded the moment we stepped through the door.

He helps me up and guides me to the neatly made bed.  Will does not wait.  He takes himself in his free hand, the other rests palm down beside my head, propping him upright.  Will guides himself, rubbing his reddened and swollen tip playfully against my entrance at first.  He doesn't push in as forcefully as I assumed he would, being so impatient earlier, but instead he takes it slow.  No matter how many times we do this, it still hurts.  Will knows it, too.  He can see it on my face.  He can see it as I bite my lip and squeeze my eyes shut tightly.  He can see the way my brow furrows into a frown, but God damn will it feel good soon enough.

He pulls out to the tip once inside and slowly pushes back in.  He does this a few times, not only for himself, but so that my body can become familiar with the intrusion.  I know what he feels like.  We've been doing this for nearly a year now and every time is so new; especially when he is like this.  He's never like this, though.  This...this is different.  This is good.

"You okay?" he asks, never once breaking his slow and steady rhythm.  I need to get used to this.

"Yes," I say, nodding.  My eyes peel open a little.  "Go on."  Will takes the hint from there, and the only thing I can do is keep my voice in check.  After all, there are people next door.  It doesn't matter so much to me about who knows what's going on inside this room, but I do retain a bit of pride.  We are playing a game here.  I want him to rip it out of me and, of course, he does every time.

Will picks up the pace.  We're both slick enough with the condom and lube that the rhythm of his thrusting comes easily now.  He takes it steadily at first, knowing how good it feels.  While our roles have been switched before, I tend (and prefer) to take rather than give.  I don't mind.  I like the way he fucks me.  He is just a picture of tenderness, and it slowly becomes something more, something feral.

The more he thrusts, the harder my breath comes out.  I pant his name and grab onto his shoulder.  I want to move.  I squirm under him but he is so lost in the tight warmth of my body that it takes him a moment to recognize my voice.  When he looks down at me, he knows what I want.  For the briefest of moments, William slips out and I turn to get on my hands and knees.  Ass up and waiting like a dog in heat, I am trembling I want him so badly, and he fills me again.

Will, leaning over me, thrusts a little harder this time.  I can't help but whimper at the force of his hips snapping back and forth.  He's got a firm grip on my hips for leverage, and his fingers dig into my skin.  My fists grab a handful of sheets.  My face is buried in the mattress, and it makes breathing difficult.  "Oh God," I moan and drag out my voice, rumbling deep and low in my throat.  I know he loves to hear it.  I bite my bottom lip and turn my head to look at him.  Will brings a hand up to brush the hair out of my face.  It sticks with a thin film of sweat that has gathered there.  His palm traces the line of my spine and it sends a fierce shiver coursing through my body.  "Will," I say, still gasping, "Will... _W-will...mmn!"_   God, does he know what he is doing to me.  He knows every single spot to make me squirm. 

"Do it," he growls, leaning down to whisper in my ear, "Come."  A hand slips under me, taking a hold of my neglected erection.  He strokes in tune with his thrusts and I just about lose control at his tight grip.  I can't take this much longer.  I don't want to.  Not a few moments later and I allow myself to let go.  I turn my head back into the pillow to muffle my cries.  Come spurts onto the sheets and dribbles from out of his fist squeezing gently at the tip of my cock.  I thrust into his fist as I ride out my release, but Will is still in me and still pumping hard.  He's yet to finish.

I encouragingly buck against him and Will grunts in response.  I know he's close.  What I don't know is how much time has gone by since we've been at it, but that never fails.  It's easy to get lost in the thrill of it.  I squeeze around his girth and Will thrusts harder, his hips slap loudly against my ass.  He gives it a good smack at the side, leaving a red mark.  His grip tightens at my hips and I can feel him slowing his pace.  He's close but he's holding back.  Maybe he wants to savor it.  Maybe he doesn't want to stop.  We don't have to leave right away because the room is ours for the night, so the notion sounds even more tempting.  Soon, his thrusts become erratic and he bucks a few times before he pulls me hard against him.  His muscles stiffen as he comes and he buries his face in the back of my neck.

It's a slow recovery, but his body relaxes enough that he collapses beside me.  I bring a hand to palm over my stomach, over the slickness of my release.  My hand moves off my stomach and onto his, but not before William catches it with his own hand.  His stomach must still be sensitive.  For what seems like the longest time, we lay together trying to catch our breaths, to find a normal rhythm again.

I'm half-awake when he shoots up into a sitting position.  My eyes flutter open at the sudden jerking movement.  "Where're you going?" I wonder aloud.  He doesn't care to snag his boxers off the ground.  Will rounds the corner of the bed as naked as the day he was born and heads for the front of the room.  He may be forty years old, but his body is in prime condition.

"Bathroom," he says and disappears into the door near the entryway.  He leaves it open; the light spills into the darkness of the hotel room and I readjust myself on the now disheveled comforter.

Leaning against the headboard, I cross my legs one over the other and close my eyes.  My body is still tingling, throbbing with the beat of my heart.  In another hour, I know I can go for another round.  I hear the water from the sink running in the bathroom.  Otherwise, everything is silent.  The silence, however, doesn't last for long.  A buzzing echoes next to the bed on the nightstand.  An exasperated sigh escapes from between my lips as William's phone vibrates across the top.  Admittedly, I am a nosey guy—even more so when the perfect mood is ruined.  I reach out for the damn thing to make it stop and flip it open.  He's received a text message.

Will spends another minute in the bathroom before coming out, completely oblivious to the fact that I'm holding his cell phone.  It isn't until he moves closer, right next to me, when I open my mouth.  "Kelsey is sick," I tell him.  Kelsey is his seven year old daughter from the first marriage.  "She says she wants her daddy," I tease, leaning over to peck at him in a flirtatious manner.  William doesn't share the humor.  He snatches his phone from my hands and rolls off of the bed again to check the text for himself.  "Your wife misses you, too," I grumble.

If looks could kill...  He was shooting daggers, furious at the audacity but he should know by now the kind of person I am.  "How many times have I told you?  Mind your own business," he snaps, flipping the phone shut.  He begins to pick up his clothes, starting with the boxers.  They go on first, dashing any hope for a second round.

"If you're so worried, why don't you go?" I ask.  Oh, what his wife would do if she could see him now.  I can't help but smile inwardly at the thought.  I wouldn't be surprised to find her admitted, the psycho.  She has accused him of cheating before but with one of the secretaries at work.  Little does she know.

"This was a mistake," he says, pulling up his slacks now.  William fumbles a little with the belt.  He is flustered and quite noticeably angry.

I chuckle under my breath and mutter, "Why am I not surprised?"  It's always the same.  Every time we find ourselves like this, something has to ruin the moment.  Yet, every time he comes back to me, every time he wants more.

With his shirt on, he fastens the buttons in a hasty fashion, fully dressed and anxious to leave.  He wants to get out of here and I'm not going to stop him.  We'll see one another tomorrow morning at 8:00 AM sharp.  The last thing he grabs is his coat.  His hands check to make sure he has got his wallet, phone and keys.  The fact that he's leaving irks me a bit, but it's not so much that he's stiffing me with the bill.  The business pays for that.  I do, however, have to admit that I would like to spend one night where he does not walk out on me.

Perhaps another time.

"Goodnight," I say as he yanks open the door.  I can't see him in the hallway, but I know he can hear me.  William doesn't bother to give a reply.  The door shuts slowly with a soft click and the lock engages.


End file.
